Running Away
by sonicstardust
Summary: It seems like Kate isn't just running from the law, but from the things she's done. The part on the island is set right after 1x22: Born To Run. One shot story, but now with a sequel entitled: A Storm Is Coming.


Kate ran.

She ran until she wasn't sure what she was running from anymore. Her legs felt like rubber beneath her and breathing felt like gasping for air under water. She dropped down to rest behind some trash cans in an alleyway, listening for the sounds of sirens.

There was no sign of the cops, the only noise was that of a distant radio thumping, and the lonely sounding howls of a dog in the yard across the alley. It whined at her pathetically through the fence.

"Shush," she muttered to it. "You wanna get me caught?"

The large yellow lab whimpered, wagging his tail.

"Good dog," she told him, leaning forward to let the dog sniff her fingers; he licked them cheerfully.

Kate smiled. It was nice to be near someone who wasn't constantly judging you, or basing their opinion on stupid things they'd been told.

"Mikey!" came the voice of a teenage boy.

Kate ducked behind the largest can, squeezing her eyes closed and hoping he wouldn't hear how loud she was breathing.

"What're you yapping at, you dumb dog?" the boy said affectionately, peering through the rickety wooden slats of the fence. "I can see you there you know." he added, unlatching the gate and coming out into the alley.

_Shoot!_ she thought, opening her eyes and forcing a nervous smile.

"Hi, I um..."

The boy was tall and thin, around eighteen or nineteen, with shaggy blonde hair and glasses.

"Why are you hiding back here?" he asked pointedly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his beat up looking jeans.

Kate tried to think, but her brain was numb with tiredness. "I'm..." she attempted lamely. "My boyfriend..." she shook her head. Leave the rest up to the kid's imagination.

He nodded, looking understanding. "Do you wanna come inside? It's getting dark."

Well, that was unexpected. Kate eyed him questioningly. "You serious?"

"Yeah," he replied, giving an honest little smile.

Kate frowned. "Your parents wouldn't...?"

The boy laughed nervously. "It's just me, my brother, and my grandma. Don't worry, they won't ask too many questions."

She looked confused by his hospitality. After a long pause, she gave a sigh, "Okay," she let him help her off the ground.

He unlatched the gate and shoved his dog back to prevent him from escaping.

Mikey bounded about, wagging happily and sniffing at her.

"I'm Thomas, by the way." the boy added, locking the gate behind them.

Kate's stomach gave a small lurch at that name, but outwardly she smiled. "I'm Katie."

Why had she said Katie? She could have had any name she wanted and he wouldn't have known any different. She supposed that he was just that honest that she wanted to trust him.

From the corner of the yard, a little boy with blond hair sat on a swing. He watched them closely, scowling and looking upset.

"Don't mind Jamie," Thomas muttered. "He's a little depressing."

He led her up the crumbling concrete steps into a tiny, musty smelling kitchen. "Do you want something to eat?"

Kate grinned, she hadn't given her stomach a thought for some time, but yes, she was starving. "Sure, thanks."

Thomas fished his hand into a fruit bowl on the counter behind him, brought out a banana and tossed it to her.

"Hey," he asked suddenly, "have you ever heard of Driveshaft?"

"The band?" Kate replied through a mouthful of banana.

"Yeah," he said, pressing the play button on his stereo, then skipping forward two songs. "Personally," he said, grinning and showing of a pair of dimples, "I like track three. Great backing vocals, don't you think?"

Kate nodded, finishing her banana and tossing the peel in the trash. "They were good."

Thomas shook his head. "They _are_ good. They're still together."

Kate smiled. "I knew that."

Thomas ran his fingers through his long hair. After a brief, but awkward silence, he asked quietly. "So, do you wanna meet my grandma?"

Kate nodded. "Sure."

Thomas smiled. "She's just through here."

He pushed open the door and led the way through a dim room filled with plants and potted trees, into another room, darker than the first. The whole room seemed to vibrate slightly and there was just barely enough light to make out rows and rows of seats.

_Odd,_ Kate thought. _But, to each his own._

"Here," came Thomas's voice through the gloom.

"Where?"

"Here." he had stopped abruptly, causing Kate to walk into his back.

She blinked, but instead of her eyes adjusting to the poor lighting, it just seemed to be getting worse.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Thomas asked from ahead.

"I can't tell, is there a light somewhere?" Kate told him, feeling uneasy.

"Oh, yeah."

It was lighter suddenly, not much, but there was enough light to see by. The room looked like the interior of an airplane.

"Come here," came a raspy voice from the seat at the far end of the room. It was the only chair still in shadow.

Kate edged closer, toward the unseen voice. "Hi," she said quietly, "I'm..." she trailed off as the figure in the chair came into view.

"M-mom?" she gasped, stepping back.

The figure of her mother, dressed in a hospital gown, sat sprawled on the seat, eyes rolled back.

"Thomas–Tom? What's going on?" she turned to ask him, but he wasn't there. In his place, stood Locke, holding a knife. A dead boar lay at his feet.

"John?"

"Have you got his back?" he asked in a voice so low that it was almost a whisper.

Kate shook her head, wishing the insanity would just end. "I don't know what you're..."

The room plunged into darkness, then a white light filled the door way that she and Thomas had entered from.

There stood the figure of the Marshal, shadowed against the light streaming in behind him. He grinned and said in a mocking voice. "He didn't die, he was murdered!" he cackled insanely.

Kate screamed. Blood was gushing from wounds in the Marshal's head, neck, stomach, and chest, along with trickles from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

She stumbled and fell backwards into the already occupied chair. Kate screamed again, tears running from her eyes. Instead of her mother, she had fallen onto Tom's lap, her Tom's lap.

Tom was dead, covered in blood, his skin cold and pale. He gasped and grabbed Kate by her arm.

"Why'd you run, Katie?" he asked, flecks of blood from his mouth spattering her white shirt.

"I don't know!" she cried, wrenching away. She dropped to the floor and buried her face in her arms.

"Why?" Tom asked again, without any accusation in his voice, just innocent curiosity. "Why, Katie, why'd you–"

"I don't know!" Kate yelled, covering her ears "I don't –"

"Hey," someone prodded her shoulder sharply.

Kate sat bolt upright. Her face was covered in tears and sweat. Sawyer stood up, startled by her sudden awakening. Concern barely pierced his attitude of indifference.

"You...okay?"

Kate wiped her face, shivering despite the tropical climate. "Yeah," she replied shakily, forgetting their earlier argument. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Sawyer nodded coolly. "Heard you talking in your sleep, figured I'd listen in."

"What did I say?" Kate asked, suddenly defensive.

Sawyer shrugged. "How the hell do I know?" he asked. "But whatever you were dreaming about, well, let's just say it didn't seem like you were enjoying it."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Figured I'd wake you, if it was upsetting you that much."

"It wasn't," Kate told him rather unconvincingly.

Sawyer shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well goodnight."

_And good-bye._ though Kate dismally as he strolled out of her tent. She ruffled her hair, which was sufficiently tangled from sleeping on it, and sighed quietly. Somehow she didn't feel much like going back to sleep.


End file.
